Diabetes

type 1, insulin pump, blood glucose

Boulevard of broken dreams

Diabetes, Races, Running

Dear Marathon, You and me, we are so over. And let me be clear on this, it was you, not me that ruined this relationship. Yes, yes, I know I was the one who sought you out, who longed for your elusive, bad boy ways, but I’ve done you twice now, and both times you kind of sucked ass. I mean seriously, did you really think we were going to last when you repeatedly punched me in the gut for 20 straight kilometres, and joyously cackled when my legs seized up at 30 kms, and laughed at my blister-clad feet, and taunted me with every shaky step I took. Really? Yeah, no. And don’t you try to come crawling back to me with your gold trinkets, because it won’t work, I’m done, I’m moving on … with your half cousin! Who’s laughing now jerk face? Sincerely, Princess RUN FOR WATER […]

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The final count down

Diabetes, Races, Running

Let the count down begin! In T – 12 hours my feet will be racing across that start line and will keep going for another four plus hours. Am I nervous? Nah. Excited? A little. Turns out my endless poking and prodding, urging and reminding (and maybe a little of the threatening to bring out the voodoo dolls) actually worked. I’m pretty sure, by the phone conversations, email back and forth and Facebook messages I’ve had in the last two days, a large contingent of my immediate family will be cheering me on at the Finish LIne. And that alone, along with Mario and Lappiere cheering me on at different locales, will keep me going, and will surely, even if it kills me, have me finishing with a smile. I LOVE MY FAMILY!!! Today has been all about the preparations, clothing preparations, mental preparations (getting your hair done fits in

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Princess and D-gal: The power of two bloggers

Diabetes

For years I wanted nothing to do with this disease. Nothing. I was comfortable taking a backseat to my diabetes, ignoring it, denying it, full-on rebelling against it. I didn’t care to talk to anyone about it, and I sure as heck didn’t want anybody talking to me about it. And when it came to other diabetics, I wanted nothing to do with them. But my oh my how things do change. Earlier this week, when still in the Onterrible, I had an opportunity to meet with Scully, fellow blogger, long-distance runner, and type 1 diabetic. I was a little nervous going in. I’ve been reading her blog for a good while now and while I love her online personality, I had no idea what I’d be getting in the flesh. Over the years I’ve met a few diabetics who, truthfully, I couldn’t stand. For me, there’s nothing worse than

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Good Life. Good Time.

Diabetes, Races, Running

Ahh Onterrible, we had such hopes for you, high hopes, you teased us with a sunny forecast, balmy weather even, you told me to leave the sweaters at home, to pack my bags full of spring skirts and no-sleeved shirts, and so I did. And then, practically the second we landed down in your land, you turned on us with a crack of thunder and five full days of rain, and not warm rain, oh no, you were filling our boots full of bitter, cold, nasty, miserable rain. And so, dear Onterrible, you shall continue to be … TERRIBLE!!! (Side note: when we landed in Vancouver yesterday afternoon, the sun was hot and blinding, and the Onterrible layers were fast shedding!) Mario should NOT still be wearing his wool hat in May! Despite the rain, there were still some pretty great moments to be had visiting with Mario’s family, and

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An ode to moms

Diabetes

Dear moms, Without you, I wouldn’t be here. Not only did you give birth to this here princess, you empowered me to be the independent person I am today, to believe in myself, to love myself, to kick and scream, and even throw a few punches too when things don’t go my way. You gave me an un-detering, never give in, fight like you’ve never fought before attitude. You gave me my button nose, and my plump lips, and yes my simian finger tips too. You gave me my addiction healthy relationship with chocolate and my undying love for ice cream. You did not give me your breasts, but did give me your early grey hair and nervous belly (but I shant fault you for those!). And on more than one occasion, including yesterday, you gave me life. Wedding moms (and pops) Back when I was a rebellious teenager, ignoring

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